Pants
by PsychologyGeek81
Summary: Juliette encounters an unexpected obstacle as she and Warner discuss sharing their news with their friends.


**Author's note: So this is the last of my fics from the ton I wrote in 2015. I hope you all enjoyed them and that you enjoy Restore Me.**

I'm standing in front of the full length bedroom mirror, a soft, thick bath robe wrapped around my body and a towel piled high on top of my head. The last wisps of steam from the shower are hovering, leaking in through the open bathroom door and creating a strange mixture of cool and sticky air. Raising my hands to the fabric twisted around my wet hair I unwind it, ruffling my hair in a hope to get it to dry quicker. The sun shines bright out of the window filling the room with light, and I stand right in the centre of the stream as I dry my hair, causing me to squint a little. After stopping and discarding the towel in the laundry hamper I examine my hair, which is still damp and in desperate need of a brushing, but that can wait.

For once it seems, that I can take my time getting ready in the morning rather than rushing around frantically in an effort to arrive on time to work. Its Sunday, one of only two days a week that I do not spend sat in my office all day, despite being on call should some disastrous government issue arise in my absence. I let out a small sigh, shaking all thoughts of work from my brain before moving over to my drawers and putting on my underwear. Once partially clothed I hang my robe on the back of the door and move back over to the mirror, moving my hands carefully over the small bump nestled between my hips.

From the front you can barely see it, but as I turn and examine my side in the mirror it definitely becomes more noticeable. A wide smile breaks on my face as I study myself, running my hands over the curve of my stomach once more. It seems to be getting bigger every day, and I think about how soon it will be before I can no longer hide it under loose shirts. So far the only people who knew besides me and Warner were Kenji and the twins, who had all promised not to say anything until we told everyone ourselves. It won't be long before people will begin to notice themselves, I'm already struggling to get in most of my pants. All thoughts about my rapidly growing stomach disappear when another pair of hands slip around my waist, moving over my hands to rest on the bump.

"How are you feeling this morning, love?" Warner's voice sounds softly in my ear. I nestle into the warmth of his chest against my back, sighing contentedly as he presses a kiss to my cheek.

"Hungry. What's for breakfast?" I reply, thankful that today the answer isn't nauseous.

"Whatever you want," he answers, resting his chin on my shoulder. I hear him chuckle under his breath. "However if you were planning on having half a carton of ice cream again I'm not sure we have any left."

"Yeah I had the last of it yesterday," I laugh, thinking of how unconventional my breakfast has become over the past two weeks. Since the nausea had started to pass I've been unable to stop eating, resulting in an insatiable sweet tooth, particularly in the morning. I didn't even have to think about what I wanted for breakfast. "You can make me a huge pile of toast, with lots of peanut butter." I request, turning to plant a quick kiss on his lips.

"Of course, love," he whispers, his lips curving into a smile against my shoulder. After one last gentle hug from behind, Warner lets me go so I can brush my hair. I walk over to the vanity and pick up my hairbrush, already tugging it through the matted strands by the time I make it back over to the full length mirror. Warner steps back as I take up most of the space in front of the mirror to brush my hair, and I end up watching him out of the corner of my eye. Wearing nothing but the sweatpants he slept in, he stands a few paces behind me with his arms folded over his bare chest, watching me intently as I untangle my hair. His gaze flickers frequently from my face to the bump and back again, green eyes soft with adoration and a wide smile plastered across his face. Whilst I enjoy watching the look of pure happiness on Warner's face, a thought crosses my mind.

"When do you think we should tell everyone?" I wonder aloud, remembering that it's often around twelve weeks when people start inform their friends and family. I was just entering my twelfth week and so far only three people knew, two of them because they were responsible for my medical records. I turn around to face Warner.

"Soon," he answers, and while it wasn't entirely obvious on his face, his eyes exposed how excited to tell everyone he was, especially his brother James. I was honestly surprised he hadn't told him already.

"Yeah, I don't think I'll be able to keep it a secret for much longer," I reply, struggling to fight the enormous grin that threatened to take over my face.

"Me neither," adds Warner, the softening in his voice only confirming what I'd seen in his eyes earlier. "Okay then, we will tell them as soon as possible."

"How do you think we should do it?" I beam, a million ideas already swimming around in my head. I select one to suggest. "I think that we should invite them over for dinner, what do you think?"

"I think that sounds like a great idea love," I hear from just behind me, where Warner had now moved. He rests one hand on my shoulder, his reflection suddenly raising an eyebrow. "Providing that they don't all know already," he says, and I know exactly what he is referring to. I roll my eyes at the predictability of the comment before turning around to face him.

"Kenji hasn't told anyone," I insist, which only elicits a smirk and another raised eyebrow.

"Are you sure about that?" he counters, always the first to doubt anything where my best friend is painted as reliable. I inwardly laugh at the unsurprising direction of this conversation before continuing my defence.

"I made him promise," I explain, realising that my explanation didn't exactly sound solid. "And besides, he knows what I'd do to him if he did tell." At that he laughed.

"I trust your word," He finally concedes.

"And how do I know you haven't told James?" I wonder, raising my eyebrows.

"I haven't told James," He answers confidently, smiling at me like my attempt to question him was highly amusing.

"Sure," I reply with as much obvious sarcasm as I could manage.

"I haven't," he says again, somehow sounding even more confident than before. I let out a sigh before giving up.

"Alright, I believe you," I explain, trying not to take it back as a smug grin unfolds on his face. "Now go and get dressed so you can make my toast." I add, smacking him playfully on the arm before directing him towards the walk in closet.

Typically Warner's stuff took up all of the space in the walk in closet, which he adamantly insisted was still far too small but took it anyway, so my clothes were stored in various dressers and an armoire scattered around the bedroom. One of the things I enjoyed about weekends was being able to take the time to get dressed in the morning, and being able to dress as casually as possible. I had already made a mental catalogue of what I wanted to wear today. A simple but incredibly soft sweater, perfect for the incoming fall winds, and one of my only pairs of still fitting jeans which were loose and comfortable. I went to the dresser containing the clothing and sought them out, laying them down on the newly made bed. I put the sweater on first, pulling the soft fabric over my head so it glided down my arms, settling comfortably on my skin and neatly over my bump before I moved onto the jeans. I put my legs in each pant hole, pulling them up over my knees until they were settled against my hips. They felt a little bit tight, but that was to be expected with my current size. What I hadn't expected though, was that when I yanked on the zipper to do up the jeans, it wouldn't budge.

"Are… are you kidding," I mutter to myself, hoping that the jeans were still able to do up. I had really wanted to wear these today and was going to be rather annoyed if they didn't do up. I tried to approach them button first, but neither side was anywhere close to meeting. These jeans were not doing up.

"Damn!" I curse, letting go of the waistband in frustration. Warner rushes back into the room, already dressed in a sweater and a pair of black slacks. He stops in front of me, eyeing me with concern.

"Is everything okay?" he asks. I give him a look to say that I'm not hurt before attempting to explain the situation.

"I can't," I stammer out, distracted by my frustration and the sudden burning in my cheeks. "They won't," I say, leading his eyes down to the waistband of my jeans, which looks like its trying not to burst in its effort to stay around my stomach. Warner simply looks at me, shaking his head as a soft chuckle escapes his lips, clearly finding the situation rather entertaining. I however, with my hormones making me irritated beyond reason, found the situation a little less than funny.

"Is this funny to you?" I question, causing only more chuckling.

"No. I was just wondering why you seem so surprised," he replies, no longer grinning. I blink at him, confused.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Well we knew this was going to happen sooner or later," he explains rather matter of factly. I freeze as I consider his statement, which is by all accounts true, I was just hoping that it hadn't happened now. Still frustrated, I sigh.

"But… but they fit fine two weeks ago," I point out, the tone of my voice clearly indicating my annoyance.

"You've grown in those two weeks," Warner states.

"I know but… damn," I say, clenching my fist and releasing it. "And I really wanted to wear these today, I had a whole outfit planned and everything," I explain, my tone of disappointment obvious.

"Outfit plans can be changed," he counters, another true statement. They were starting to annoy me.

"I know, but it's just annoying," I continue, wondering to myself how many pairs that fit I actually do have left. This was another one to be stored away until after the baby arrives. "I'm not sure how many pairs I have left that still fit." I voice my thoughts.

"Maybe you should consider wearing jeans less, or possibly buying some more with a wider waistband," Warner suggests. I sigh, trying not to roll my eyes too hard. A suggestion to go shopping for more clothes, why am I not surprised? However, this might be the best point he's had so far, and considering that I was definitely not going to get to wear these jeans any time soon what did I have to lose.

"You might be right," I admit. "Maybe it is time to start thinking about maternity shopping." I catch Warner's eyes lighting up at my agreement to go shopping, but then he looks away, stepping out of the way so I can pull the jeans down my legs and place them down on the bed to be put away with the other clothes that were now too small. With that, I then began my begrudged search for an alternate pair of pants.


End file.
